The moment I said it,I wanted to take it back
But words take up a life of its own
It hung heavy in the air between us,
Poisoning everything in its path.
How easy it was to wound, to hurt,
a few unkind words, mixed with malice,
for all the years you kept telling me
what was good for me, who wasn't good for me
And for your concern which I tend to see
as a judgement on my choices, on my life
So I lashed back with the only
weapon I had, but I see how childish that
was of me, because really, I do love you very much
And I am older now, not a sixteen year old
rebel-without-a-cause, and you are older too
And I should have been more considerate,
Instead I had caused you pain
By then you had retreated,
And I didn't know how to draw you out
And the day dragged on with this pointless
hurting, with our swollen hearts painful to bear.
So here I am, writing you a poem,
my head bent in repentance,
asking what I could do
to make you forgive me?